Golden Wolf
by cowlicklesschick
Summary: Al, eager for a fresh start, had planned on disappearing in the blooming community of Colorado Springs. The unexpected kindness of Dr. Michaela Quinn and her children however, sets her carefully woven story unravelling. But just when the town seems to forgive the unforgivable, she finds herself in danger of losing everything - and everyone - she has come to love.
1. Chapter 1

By the time she'd reached Colorado Springs, Al had sweated what felt like buckets, her arms were dark and sunburned, and she had dirt and dust in places dirt and dust had no business being. The cooler temperatures, however, were a welcome change from Santa Fe, and she tried not to sigh at the soft breeze that teased her face as she rode down the busy street.

As her horse tiredly plodded on, she took notice of what buildings and business were what. She easily spotted the saloon – that was easy to find in any town, so long as you followed the rough laughter and the smell of cigars – the telegraph office, a general store, a livery, and a long, rambling building with a sign she couldn't make out from this distance.

It was a peaceful, bustling little town, and it was perfect for a girl to get lost in. Which was exactly what she needed.

At the moment, though, Al needed some food for herself and her horse, so she edged her way through the crowds and dismounted at the rail in front of the store. People came and went off the big front porch, and she quickly snatched her ragged hat off her head when a couple of chatting women came out. They barely spared her a glance, which only increased her confidence that this little community on the edge of the Colorado wilderness was just the place for her.

She kept her hat clutched in one hand, pausing to slap it against her thigh to get out the worst of the dust, and went inside. An older gentleman was sweeping the floor in one corner, and over by the jars of candy a woman who looked to be a bit younger stood laughing with a much younger woman and an even younger girl. At her entrance they all looked over, but Al just bobbed her head and moved straight for the bags of oats against the wall. She hefted two under an arm and turned towards the counter, and nearly ran into the girl standing right behind her.

"Hello," she smiled.

"Uh…hi," Al stammered, barely remembering to pitch her voice lower.

"I'm Colleen Cooper. That's my ma, over there," she pointed at the younger of the two women from earlier, who came over along with the older one.

They both gave friendly smiles.

"Dorothy Jennings. My brother-in-law, over there, Loren Bray, runs the place. Nice to meet you, young man."

"Ma'am." At least her disguise was passing the first impressions. She clenched her fist around the bags of oats, trying not to feel irritated that Colleen was just being neighborly.

"And I'm Michaela Quinn. I'm the town doctor."

That did catch her off guard a bit; she felt her eyes widen.

"A lady doctor?" the words tumbled out before Al could stop them, but from the way Dr. Quinn smiled they hadn't offended. "Well, I'll be."

"Dr. Mike's the best there is at fixin' folks up." Colleen said proudly.

Al felt her own smile, albeit a tiny one, tug at the corners of her mouth. "I'm sure she is, miss." _I'm also sure she's one of the best at noticin' things folks don't want noticed._

"What did you say your name was, fella?" The older, male voice caused Al to tense and jerk her head to look over her shoulder, but it was only the old storekeeper. Mr. Bray, if she remembered correctly.

"Al Riley, sir."

The man squinted at her, then shuffled over and offered a handshake that Al met cautiously. "Help ya find anythin'?"

"Oh, well, uh…" her carefully constructed list had disappeared along the same time as when three females had surrounded her.

"Salt. And flour, and cornmeal, and some potatoes if you got any."

Mr. Bray motioned for her to follow, so she set the oats on the high counter on her way by. Right as she passed the door a young boy came running in, coming close to ploughing right into her.

"Brian, careful!" Colleen scolded. "You almost knocked over Al."

"Who?" The kid turned and looked up. "Oh. Sorry. I didn't see you."

"S'okay, no harm done." She flashed what was hopefully taken as a goodbye smile at Colleen, and turned just in time to actually collide with a solid chest. Callused hands grabbed her shoulders, and she looked up into a laughing face.

"Whoa! I'm sorry, I- "

"Matthew," Colleen appeared behind the little boy, rolling her eyes. "Not you too. Brian just about sent him to the floor. Don't pay my dumb brothers no mind, Al."

The tall fellow called Matthew released her shoulders, but he kept chuckling. "Sorry, I didn't see you."

_That's the whole idea. Could you teach your sister? _Aloud she said, "Don't worry about it."

"Boy," Mr. Bray called from the back corner, giving her the perfect excuse to slip away. As she moved towards the flour and salt, she snuck a glance down at the front of herself. Relief washed over her when she saw that her shirt front still lay flat, and when she glanced in the looking-glass hanging on display she saw that dirt and soot was still smeared all over her jaw. Good.

A few minutes later she paid for the small heap on the counter, gave a polite nod to the two women, who were now joined by Colleen and the boys, and headed out to her horse to shove everything in her saddlebags. In short order she was packed and ready to go, and had one foot in the stirrup when she remembered she'd meant to get some candy. Her last job had paid well and it had been a while since she had herself a treat.

After checking her horse's reins were still tied, she hopped back up the steps and headed straight for the jars filled with colorful sweets, finding the young boy – Brian? – gazing longingly at the gumdrops. Fighting a smile, she helped herself to the rock candy and headed up front to pay. On impulse she doubled back and filled a second paper with the gum drops, and set both packets on the scale.

"Got yourself a sweet tooth, son?" Mr. Bray seemed kind enough, if a bit jagged around the edges. No harm in being mannerly. She'd learned early on in this ruse that stand-offish usually meant stand _out_, and that was the last thing she needed.

"Yes sir," she replied, and she was fishing in her pocket for the coins when shouting was heard from the street.

Bewildered, she leaned to peer out the open door frame. Nothing unusual in sight, but curiosity pulled her and everyone else out onto the porch.

"What's going on?" The older Cooper boy craned his neck in the direction of the shouting.

"I – " Al started, but her words were cut off by the appearance of a runaway horse, thundering down the dusty street. Folks scrambled out of the way, mothers yanking children behind wagons, but the hollering seemed to get louder, and suddenly she spotted the man being drug behind the pounding hooves, his foot caught in the lariat looped around the saddle horn.

Men were running after the horse, some with axes, and others with guns. More people started shouting, all around her, but Al's focus on entirely on the horse's flaring nostrils, the whites of its eyes showing and its sides flecked with foam. Instinctively she stepped off the porch, slowly making her way to the edge of the road. As the horse reached the last few feet, she bounded forward, grabbed the pommel, and swung aboard.

_First things first._ She pulled one of her knives from its hiding place down the back of her shirt, and reached behind her. One quick slash of her arm, and the man was left behind in the dirt. The horse put on an even bigger burst of speed without its burden; even as experienced as she was with horses of all temperaments, she was nearly thrown backwards off the saddle.

Al grit her teeth. She hadn't been thrown since she was six, and this ornery animal wasn't about to change that. Her fingers tightened on the reins, tangling in the mane hair, while her other hand shoved her knife back into its place. This steed required two hands. She managed to get her feet into the stirrups, and though they were a little big for her, she stood up and leaned down to talk in the horse's ear.

Softly she murmured her mother tongue, letting the ancient words flow like the Rio Grande that cut just to the west of Albuquerque. The horse's ear twitched, slapping her gently in the face and making her smile. Horses and Indians – no matter how the world changed, the two would always understand one another. It was somehow comforting that truth still held here in Colorado as it had in New Mexico.

By now the gallop was just for speed rather than fear, so she tugged the animal into a turn and headed back into town. Luckily they hadn't gotten far, not even out of sight from the crowd of townsfolk that gathered to watch the spectacle. She winced inwardly as she approached, now at an easy trot, noticing how all eyes were riveted on her.

_So much for going unnoticed._

It was rather easy to spot the man who had nearly been drug to death, seeing as he was coated head to toe in brown dirt. She dismounted and walked over to hand him the reins, trying not to squirm under all the scrutiny.

"How'd you do that, boy?" The man didn't seem mad, just befuddled.

She shrugged. "My ma always said I got a way with horses, sir."

He didn't appear any less confused, but nodded anyway. "Much obliged."

She tipped her hat by way of reply, and shouldered her way back into the store, where she found Dr. Quinn waiting impatiently. The moment she crossed the threshold the doctor grabbed her by both shoulders and began feeling down her arms for broken bones.

Alarm bells sounded in her head. Women were the most likely to notice what she tried so hard to hide, and doctors were second on the list. Having someone who was both a woman _and_ a doctor was nothing short of a nightmare, especially when they were inspecting you the way Dr. Quinn was now.

Gently but firmly, Al removed the doctor's probing hands, which were now on her neck and jaw, and stepped away. "Ma'am, I 'ppreciate the concern, but I-"

"Do you feel dizzy? Any nausea?" Dr. Quinn didn't even seem to hear her. Al took a deep breath and tried again.

"Doc, I'm fine. I done it before. If anyone needs doctorin' it's that fella out there that got drug halfway 'cross town."

Dr. Quinn appeared to have realized that Al didn't want any medical attention, and a rather stern look crossed her features.

"Mr. Riley," she began, "that was incredibly dangerous. A runaway horse like that can't be reasoned with, and a young boy like you has no business – "

"Ma." It was Matthew. He laid one hand on the doctor's shoulder, and she looked about ready to argue, but stopped at the look on his face. After a moment she nodded, like they were having a silent conversation, and smiled ruefully at Al, who still stood, motionless with shock.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Riley. I'm sure you don't need or want my mothering. It's just that you don't look much older than my Matthew, and I guess the doctor in me kept seeing you getting thrown off. Obviously you're much more capable than I gave you credit for."

Al had to smile at that. The woman was practically her own mother reincarnated. Bossy and intrusive, but with a heart of pure gold.

"Nothin' to be sorry for, ma'am. But I ain't been thrown since I was a young'un. I know horses real good."

Dr. Quinn smiled. "You sure do."

Al felt a tug on her sleeve, and looked down into Brian's young face. "Mr. Riley, what did you say to that horse? I saw you talkin' to her."

Despite herself, Al hunkered down to his level. "I told her she didn't need to be afraid."

"That's all?"

She grinned. "And I said that if she quit that fool runnin' and come back into town like a sensible horse oughta, I'd give her a piece of my rock candy."

Chuckles broke out around the circle, and she stood to her full height and handed Mr. Bray the money for the sweets that had waited patiently on the scales during the commotion.

"Here, kid."

Brian took the package of gum drops, joyous disbelief written in his broad smile. "Oh, boy! Thanks, Mr. Riley!"

She shook her head. "Kid, I ain't old. Call me Al." She handed him a single piece of her own candy. "You give this to that horse for me, will ya?"

"Sure will!"

"Al, do you have a place to stay?" Mrs. Jennings asked before she could leave. Al tried to look nonchalant.

"Under a tree's 'bout as homey as it gets, ma'am. I ain't fancy."

"Well, unfortunately Colorado Springs isn't fancy enough to have a hotel," Mrs. Jennings replied, "but we have a storage room in the back you're more than welcome to if you need it."

Al hesitated. Sleeping under a roof was luxury after the past several months, but so close into town, and in a room where anybody could walk in at any time…what if she was caught changing clothes?

"If you'd rather not be in town, we've got space." Matthew spoke up. "Well, it's in a barn, but I sleep out there just fine."

That sounded much better, but she hadn't been counting on a roommate. She gnawed on the inside of her cheek, thinking.

"Why don't you come for supper at least, and if it suits you, then you can stay the night." Dr. Quinn suggested.

After a moment Al nodded. "Alright. Thanks, Doc."

"Oh, it's our pleasure. Do you have business still in town?"

"I was plannin' on gettin' my horse re-shoed, but it can wait."

Dr. Quinn turned to Matthew. "You said you wanted to get a haircut?"

He ran one hand through his floppy dark blond hair that looked like it might be brown if it didn't get so much sun. "Yes ma'am. I can wait and show him the way, if you like. That'll give you and Colleen time to get supper on the table."

"Wonderful! It's all settled then. Al, we'll see you at supper. Take your time with your horse, there's no rush. Matthew, I'll leave Flash tied at the clinic for you. Come along Brian, Colleen. Thanks for the chat, Dorothy."

Dr. Quinn herded the two younger kids outside to the wagon, and Al stood clutching her parcel of rock candy and wondering how she'd gone from a perfect stranger to a supper guest in less than twenty minutes of being in town.

/

Matthew stood and brushed himself off. "Thanks, Jake. Dr. Mike was harpin' again that it was getting too long."

Hank snickered from his place on the bench beneath the window. "Ain't you a little old to still be mindin' your ma?"

"Ain't you a little old to be blowing up outhouses?" Matthew retorted, feeling a surge of satisfaction at the way Hank's smirk melted right off his face. Dr. Mike would probably scold him for retaliating, but it wasn't his fault that shutting Hank up once in a while felt good.

He paid Jake for the haircut and left, whistling as he clapped his hat back on his head and crossed the street to the livery. It wasn't hard to spot Al, leaning against the fence and watching Robert E work on his horse.

Matthew was no stranger to hospitality. His real ma had taken in more than one stray lamb when he was growing up, and Dr. Mike wasn't much different. Al, however, had seemed rather surprised that he would be invited to share a meal at the home of someone he barely knew. It made Matthew wonder what kind of treatment the guy normally received. They looked to be about the same age.

Matthew came up beside Al and nudged him with one arm. "How's it lookin'?"

Immediately Al tensed and shifted away almost imperceptibly. For a moment Matthew's brow furrowed in confusion, but then he remembered the look of almost panic that he'd seen in Al's eyes back in the store, when Dr. Mike had tried to examine him.

_Must not like people touchin' him_, he mused. Well, he'd remember from now on. It wasn't any of his business if someone didn't like to be touched.

Al had relaxed, though it looked almost like he had to force himself into it. "Real good. This is a fine livery."

Robert E stood from where he'd been bent over a hoof. "This here is a smart young man," he said, grinning and pointing at Al with his hammer. Al gave a small smile in return, then looked down at his feet. Robert E sent a puzzled look Matthew's way, but he just shrugged. _I don't know why he's shy. Some folks just are._

The conversation didn't continue after that, and Robert E finished a few minutes later. Al paid him, and was putting the saddle back on when Robert E spoke up again.

"That left hind leg looked a mite swollen to me. I'd take it easy for a day or two, if it was my horse."

Al pulled the cinch tight and looked at the leg in question. "Where?"

Robert E pointed, and Al nodded slowly. "Reckon that's from a few days ago. Nearly got caught by a bobcat. Out ran it easy, but I couldn't let him rest till we got here. I'll keep an eye on it. Thanks for lettin' me know."

It was the longest string of words Matthew had yet to hear come from him, but Al had already gone back to his task, slinging the saddlebags over and fixing all the harness and bridle straps. He made quick work of it, and a few minutes later he'd thanked Robert E again before he and Matthew walked over to the clinic to get Flash. When Al spotted her he whistled softly.

"She's pretty."

Matthew grinned. Horses seemed to be the only thing that could get this fellow talking.

"Yep. She's real fast and sweet. The Cheyenne gave her to Dr. Mike to thank her for sharing her medicine."

"The Cheyenne friendly?" Al asked quietly. Matthew caught a glimpse of worry on his face.

"For the most part, yeah, they are. There's a group of Dog Soldiers that cause some trouble from time to time, but other than that any Indians around here are peaceful."

"Good." Al seemed to deliberate for a moment, then blurted, "My ma was an Indian."

Matthew blinked. "Oh." _What am I supposed to say to that?_

"If that means I ain't welcome for supper no more, I understand."

Understanding dawned. _You blockhead._ _You're supposed to say it doesn't matter to you or Dr. Mike._

"Al, Dr. Mike doesn't care. None of us do."

Al's jaw swung open. "You don't?"

"A couple folks in town probably won't want to be your friends, but you're not the first half-Indian to eat under our roof."

If possible, Al looked even more astonished. "I ain't?"

"No. Mind you, the first one was a baby. So he didn't eat at the table, just made an awful lot of noise. Come to think of it," Matthew scratched his chin thoughtfully, "you'll likely be a better supper guest than he was."

Al still looked floored. Matthew decided a rescue was in order.

"Better get goin'. Don't wanna keep Ma waitin'."

He swung onto Flash, which seemed to jolt Al out of his stupor, and the two of them rode out of town in companionable silence.

/

"Colleen, are the mashed potatoes ready yet?"

"Just about."

Michaela set out plates and cups, and had just turned to get out the cutlery when steps sounded on the porch. A moment later Sully walked in. Immediately their eyes locked, and she returned his smile as she crossed the room to greet him.

"Who's the extra place for?"

"Al!" Brian answered, having taken over the setting of the table.

"Al?" Sully echoed.

"He's a new guy that rode into town today. He saved Mr. Stevens when his horse ran away with him. Dr. Mike invited him to supper."

"He bought me gum drops!" Brian was still absurdly happy about candy, Michaela noted with a smile.

"Well, I guess that answers why you sound so excited that he's comin' to supper." Sully laughed, but turned when they heard more steps outside and the door opened behind him.

"Mr. Riley," Michaela smiled warmly, hoping he wouldn't be afraid of her after her smothering attempt at the store. "Please, come in. Supper is just ready."

Al followed Matthew rather timidly, taking his hat off and hanging it on one of the pegs by the door before heading to the washbasin.

After he'd sat down, Michaela noticed that his hands and forearms looked freshly scrubbed, but his face still carried a considerable amount of grime. She wisely said nothing, and after grace she busied herself with making sure the boy's plate was full. He looked awfully thin.

The bowls had been passed, the 'pleases' and 'thank-yous' had been replaced by the clink of the cutlery on plates, and Al sat with his eyes on his plate, silently forking one mouthful of food after another. She exchanged a glance with Sully, who got the message and cleared his throat.

"So, Mr. Riley, where you from?"

The boy swallowed. "Just outside Santa Fe."

Sully looked surprised. "New Mexico?"

"Yes sir."

"You don't have an accent." Colleen said with confusion.

"I ain't Mexican."

That surprised Michaela. He certainly had the looks – tanned, golden brown skin, black hair, and dark eyes. Eyes that were currently filled with uncertainty, and flickered to Matthew, who nodded encouragingly. Al took a deep breath.

"My ma was an Apache Indian."

_Ah._

"Was?" she asked gently.

Al nodded. "Been gone 'bout four years now."

"I'm very sorry to hear that."

Al didn't answer, just nodded again.

_He's so young to be all alone_, she thought. _When the children lost Charlotte they at least had each other. And me. Who does he have?_

"What's your horse's name?" Brian wanted to know.

Al looked rather relieved at the change in subject. "Willow."

"Oh, that's a pretty name," Colleen smiled. To everyone's surprise, Al grinned back.

"Thanks."

"How old are you?" Sully queried.

"Fifteen." There was the barest moment of hesitation, just enough to give Michaela pause.

_He's probably younger than that, barely more than a child. Out here, travelling around all by himself…_

"What about your pa?" Sully asked.

The change was so sudden and so drastic that Michaela almost gasped. Al's youthful, calm face was hardened by the clenched jaw, the downturned mouth and the slight crease in his brow. But worst of all was his eyes. Michaela had never seen such anger, especially not in one so young.

"If he's lucky, far away." Al's voice had gone stone cold, and he was clenching his knife and fork so tightly his knuckles had gone white.

Sully had been rather taken aback by their guest's reaction, but recovered. "Well, I'm sure Dr. Mike will be more than happy to let you stay here for as long as you need."

Michaela was swift to nod her agreement. Al's face softened back to its expressionless mask, and he almost smiled.

"Thank you, ma'am. I mean to get work in town so's I can earn my keep. I ain't askin' for charity."

Brian swallowed his mouthful of beans. "Ma says it ain't charity, it's just being a good…what's that word, Ma?"

She smiled. "Samaritan."

"Yeah, a Good Samaritan."

Al looked like he wanted to ruffle Brian's hair but was scared to do it. "Well, all the same, I like to work for what I get."

"What kind of work you lookin' for?" Matthew wanted to know.

Al shrugged. "Don't matter. Anybody you know be willin' to pay a half-Indian?"

"Mr. Bray might, keeping the store clean and carrying out packages for customers." Colleen looked doubtful.

"He can be stubborn if he puts his mind to it, but you might could persuade him," Sully mused, sopping up the last of his gravy with a piece of bread.

Al put down his fork. "I'll ride into town in the mornin' to see if he'll oblige. In the meantime, though, I'm all tuckered out. That offer of your barn still stand, Doc?"

He hadn't stood up or bid them goodnight, but it was clear he was done talking. Michaela's curiosity was only piqued further, but she knew it would be useless, not to mention rude, to pry now.

"Of course. Matthew, take some of the spare quilts out of the chest on your way out. I'm afraid we don't have an extra pillow, Al."

"That's alright, I've got my bed roll. Thank ya, Doc."

Matthew, his arms full of quilts, pulled the door shut behind them both as they headed out to the barn.

Colleen stood and started gathering the dishes. "Brian, you dry and I'll wash. Dr. Mike, you can walk Sully out if you want."

"Thank you, Colleen. I won't be long."

Sully followed her out onto the front porch. She could see lantern light from inside the barn, but even this close there was no sound of conversation from its occupants.

"He's awful quiet, ain't he?" Sully read her mind.

"He is. But he seems kind and mannerly enough. Quick thinker, too. He reminded me of you when he jumped on that horse in town."

"Mm. But he…it was almost like he was avoidin' questions. I mean, he answered them all, but it still seems like he's a complete stranger."

"Maybe he wants it that way," Michaela wondered.

"Can't imagine why, though. A kid that young can't have too many enemies."

"He looks barely older than Colleen, Sully. I think he might be younger than he said."

Sully snorted. "Might? I'm tellin' ya, Michaela, if he's fifteen I'll shave my hair off."

Michaela laughed. "You'd better hope he was lying, then."

Sully grinned. "You like my hair?"

"You know I do." No matter how many times he looked at her that way, it always made her face flush and her heart race. She smiled as he stepped closer, tipping her face up to allow his goodnight kiss.

"I like yours, too," he whispered. He kissed her again. "I love you."

"I love you," she whispered back. She never tired of hearing or saying the words.

One last kiss, and then he released her, walking backwards a few steps before he turned and left. Michaela watched him leave, and when she made to go back inside she noticed the light in the barn had gone out.

_At least we know he won't be keeping Matthew awake with all his chatter_, she thought wryly, before she went to help Colleen clear the supper table.

/

Al lay beneath the quilts, every inch of her as taut as a bow string.

What on earth had possessed her to do this? _This is the worst idea I've ever had_, she thought miserably.

She'd started to feel uneasy when Matthew had pulled the barn door shut behind him, but panic had set in when the boy had started shucking his clothes. Al's face flushed in the dark. It was harmless, she knew that. It wasn't like Matthew was the first man she'd ever seen in just his long johns. But the guilt was eating her alive.

_If he'd known the truth he wouldn't have undressed like that. He'd have kept his clothes on like you did._

Truth be told, she wasn't in the habit of sleeping in full get-up either, but there was no way she was taking off anything more than her boots and hat. Not even the large knife on her belt. Matthew had sent her a curious look, but hadn't questioned her other than asking if she was ready for the light to be put out. Matthew, at least, seemed to respect her need for privacy.

She flexed her fingers beneath the covers. Despite her tension and worry, exhaustion began to set in. She was warmer and more comfortable than she'd been in months, and even as she told herself that she had no right to the kindness of this family, she felt herself drifting off to sleep.

/

_**The few followers I have will probably wonder why I'm doing this when I have my work to finish for my Narnia story. I used to watch Dr. Quinn when I was a kid, with my mom, and I'd forgotten all about it until some late night channel surfing let me stumble upon it once again. I've been rewatching the series online, and as often happens, an idea popped into my head and wouldn't leave me alone till I'd written it out.**_

_**I'm still dedicated to my Narnia pieces (the upcoming sequels I have planned have got me SO EXCITED AAAHH), but this is something that's proving to be quite fun to work on as well. Updates will probably be a bit sporadic, though hopefully not few and far between.**_

_**Reviews are always welcome, but even if you've nothing to say, thanks so much for reading!**_


	2. Chapter 2

_**I feel that the next couple of paragraphs should be unnecessary, but I'd rather state the obvious than be misunderstood and upset anyone. So, here come the "duh" statements.**_

_**Any usage of racist/sexist/prejudicial comments or phrases is solely for authenticity, and will not be cast in a positive light. There will be **__**no**__** usage of racial or ethnic slurs, but I think we all know you don't have to use foul language to be a foul person. So if there are any remarks made by characters in this story, it's because those characters are canonically (and, speaking historically, accurately portrayed as such) very racist and prejudice people. They will be proven to be in the wrong, and their wrong and immoral opinions do not in any way reflect mine.**_

/

"Brian, finish your eggs."

"But Colleen, I don't want them." Brian scowled at the scrambled eggs on his plate, poking them with his fork. Al ducked her head to hide her smile as she got up for more coffee.

"Yesterday you didn't eat them, and you complained of how hungry you were well before noon recess at school. Now you hush and eat up." Colleen's tone boded ill for the one fool enough to argue again, and Brian must have heard that tone before, because he scooped a mouthful of eggs in, though the frown didn't leave his face.

"Good morning," Dr. Quinn emerged from the curtained-off dressing room, tying her apron and giving a bright smile. "Brian, make sure you eat all of your eggs, please."

"I know," the boy responded glumly. "Colleen's already bossed me to."

Colleen gave his hair a tousle as she passed by, taking bacon out of the skillet and putting it right onto Al's plate. Al gave a small grin, knowing she wouldn't have to be told to finish her breakfast. She hadn't eaten like this since the ranch in New Mexico.

"You need the wagon hitched?" Matthew asked, and Dr. Quinn nodded.

"I have some work to do at the clinic. I don't plan to be all day, though, unless they need me. Al, are you coming in too? You could ask Mr. Bray if he needs help at the store."

"Thought I might," Al answered, finishing the last of her bacon and wiping her greasy fingers on her britches. "If he ain't keen on the idea, do you know anyone else who could use a hand?"

"None that come to mind, but you could ask Mrs. Dorothy," Matthew shrugged. "If there's anyone needin' some extra muscle, she'll know."

Al nodded, trying to stamp down the unease she felt at having to speak with a bunch of strangers who probably wouldn't like her.

"Better get goin', then," Matthew stood, and Al hastily grabbed her hat and copied him. She snuck another biscuit off the platter as she pushed her chair back beneath the table; Matthew noticed and grinned slyly as he took two more.

"Boys!" Colleen scolded, though she was trying not to smile. Matthew laughed and playfully shoved Al out the door before they got fussed at any further.

The two of them headed to the barn, where they hitched the small wagon up for Dr. Mike. Al saddled Willow, munching on the last of her biscuit, and reflecting on the night before.

Normally, she didn't get asked many personal questions. Some people just didn't care about a half-breed. Most assumed that her "no-good Injun pa" had forced himself on a respectable white woman, and Al was the result, and that a young boy of that background would be no better than the man before him.

But Dr. Quinn had seemed to genuinely want to get to know her better, which was further testament that she and the Cooper kids didn't judge a body on color. Al supposed that was nice, rare nowadays, but it also meant that the doctor wasn't afraid to try and get to know her better. Which wasn't nice.

She sighed quietly, stroking Willow's mane as she thought. It wasn't so much that she didn't want to get close to this family – she'd been on her own for a long time. But she couldn't risk it.

_You being happy isn't as important as them being safe_, she reminded herself, just as Dr. Quinn came out of the house. Matthew helped her into the wagon, and climbed up beside her. Colleen came hurrying out onto the porch, her books tucked under one arm, the other holding the door for Brian. Once the two kids were in the wagon bed, the little family set off in a flurry of dust, with Al riding alongside in the bright morning sunshine.

The ride to town wasn't terribly long, and Al let herself relax, keeping one ear open to the merry chatter coming from the wagon. The rest of her was paying rapt attention to the countryside around her, noticing how the mountainous terrain was both protective and dangerous, providing shelter from the elements and hiding places for potential threats.

But here, on this brisk morning, with the mist rolling off the ponds and Willow's flanks being soaked with dew from the tall grass and birds singing to beat kingdom come in the treetops, Al felt…safe. And that wasn't a feeling she got to enjoy very often.

Colorado Springs was already busy, even this early, and once Colleen and Brian had jumped out and run to the little red schoolhouse, Matthew busied himself with tying up the horses. Al tied Willow next to them, and stood uncertainly outside the door of the clinic. She squinted up at the sign of what she'd taken to be a boarding house yesterday, and smiled a bit to herself.

_Mother would have liked Dr. Quinn_, she thought. Thankfully Matthew came up and she turned, grateful for the distraction.

"I'm gonna see if there's any deliveries at the telegraph office for Dr. Mike," Matthew offered, "and then I can go with you to the store. Mr. Bray might need some convincin'."

"Alright," Al agreed, and trotted after him down the walk. The tiny little structure next door seemed an odd fit for the tall man they found inside, but the smile he gave Matthew was friendly and Al could immediately tell that whoever this was didn't have a malicious bone in his gangly body.

"Hello, Matthew," he said brightly. "Come to see about Dr. Mike's delivery?"

"Yeah, she's gettin' kinda anxious," Matthew chuckled.

"I don't blame her one bit," the man replied. "She placed that order a good while ago. Luckily it came in on the last stage yesterday." He set four boxes on the counter, and Matthew's shoulder sagged a bit.

"Well, I'm glad they finally made it here," he muttered, "but somehow I always end up carryin' everythin'."

Al nudged him with her elbow. "You got me, ain't ya?"

Matthew grinned. "S'pose I do," he laughed. "Horace, this is Al. He rode in yesterday and is stayin' with us while he finds work here."

"Pleasure to meet you," Horace said kindly, extending one hand over the counter to shake.

Al gripped his hand, thankful not for the first time that her months on the trail had left calluses and blisters on her hands that helped hide how small and delicate they were. A womanly figure she could disguise with baggy clothes. Long hair she could cut off. Feminine hands were a bit trickier, but Horace didn't suspect anything, only gave her a friendly grin.

"Horace?" He turned around, and Al spotted a small, pretty young woman standing behind him, having just come from what must have been the living space of the building.

"Myra, this is Al, a friend of Dr. Mike's. This is my wife, Myra."

She nodded and tipped her hat, trying not to squirm when Myra's brown furrowed in scrutiny. "Ma'am."

Matthew once again saved her. "We gotta get these to the clinic," he grunted as he lifted two of the boxes and turned for the door. "Thanks, Horace. See ya, Myra."

Al quickly followed suit, flashing what was hopefully a friendly grin over her shoulder at Horace and Myra's goodbyes, and followed Matthew down the sidewalk. The boxes _were_ heavy, but part of masquerading as a boy meant that you were expected to lift and carry heavy things, and she'd gotten used to it long ago. In fact, the muscles that had developed on her arms only helped her disguise more, so she certainly wasn't going to complain.

Dr. Quinn was certainly thrilled with the packages, but they didn't stick around to see the contents (Matthew muttered that it was all boring, medicine and books and things). As they walked down the dusty street someone called Matthew's name.

"Mornin'. Who's your friend here?"

Matthew paused, and glanced over his shoulder at Al.

"Al Riley. He stayed out at the homestead with us last night after he saved Mr. Stevens. You see his horse run away with him?"

The man tossed the towel he'd been drying his hands on over one shoulder. "Yeah. I've always thought it was a too high-spirited animal for someone like Stevens. He don't have the guts to handle an animal like that." His eyes zeroed in on Al. "That was some fine ridin' you did yesterday, son."

Al resisted the urge to kick him. Above all else, she hated, _hated_ being called that. "Thank ya, sir."

"This is Jake Slicker. He's the barber."

Al glanced in Matthew's direction. He exactly hadn't greeted Jake like a long-lost friend, and now he stood almost tensely, like he was waiting for a lull in the conversation so they could break away.

"Nice to meet ya, Mr. Slicker. Iffen you don't mind, I got some things need tendin' to up at the store. Good day to ya."

Matthew followed quickly, and breathed a sigh of relief once they were out of earshot. "I'd stay clear of him for a while, if I was you."

She didn't ask why, but he told her anyway.

"Jake…well, if I were to go to him for a haircut, he'd invite me on in. If you were to ask for one, he…well, he wouldn't tell you no outright, but he'd probably make you sit out on the porch or somethin'."

Al nodded. "I see. He's one of those folks."

"Whatcha mean?"

She shrugged. "He's spineless. He don't have enough guts to take a side, instead he tries to make everyone happy. He don't take a stand on nothin', just changes course any old way the wind blows."

Matthew stared, his feet slowing to a halt in front of the store steps.

"What?" Al finally asked.

"Nothin', sorry, it's just…" Matthew shook his head. "I ain't never heard someone peg Jake so good before. And you just met him not five minutes ago."

She smiled wryly and turned to go inside. "People like Jake Slicker are all over this country. Colorado Springs ain't no different."

Matthew still looked a little surprised, but he followed her up the steps and stood behind her while they waited for Mr. Bray to finish with a customer.

Al figured she could at least get familiar with the layout of the store, and looked around. Her eyes lingered on the candy jars, despite the fact that she still had most of her rock candy left from yesterday.

"Didn't you just get some candy?"

Matthew grinned, and she flushed before schooling her features.

"You can't ever have too much candy."

That made him laugh. "You and Brian are gonna get along just fine."

She was saved from any further scrutiny when Mrs. Jennings came over with a friendly smile.

"Mornin' boys. What can I do for ya?"

"Mornin', Mrs. Jennings. I was wonderin' if Mr. Bray was needin' any help around the store. Shelvin', sweepin', carryin' out the heavy things for the womenfolk…"

She twisted her hat nervously in her hands, but Mrs. Jennings smiled.

"You can call me Miss Dorothy, young man. I don't know if Loren needs any help or not, but I'll bring him right over soon's he's finished."

She nodded. "Much 'bliged."

It seemed to take forever, but in reality it was only a few minutes later when Mr. Bray came over.

She felt like she stuttered and stumbled through the whole thing, and at some point she discovered that she was grateful Matthew had come along. Mr. Bray kept sneaking side glances his way, and whatever signal Matthew gave him was enough to keep the old man from turning his back on her.

"You know how to use a hammer?"

She nodded emphatically. "Yessir. Real good."

He squinted at her, then grunted. "You keep outta my money drawer. Broom's in the back closet, you can start by sweepin' the porch."

"Yessir. Thank you, sir."

Relief was palpable, making her bones lighter than they'd felt in months. She tried to tell herself that it wasn't because of the fact that she wanted to stay here, and reached to put her hat on a peg by the door.

When she turned around, Matthew was grinning wide. "You need anythin' today, Dr. Mike's down at the clinic, and Robert E's livery is right across the street."

She nodded again. "Thanks."

He backed away, and put his hat back on. "Good luck. You'll need it."

/

By dinnertime, Al couldn't believe how sore she was. She thought that months on the trail, not to mention all her previous jobs as she worked her way north, would have prepped her more than enough for tasks such as dusting high shelves, lifting bags of flour and salt and sugar into wagon beds, or tearing up and replacing a creaky step leading up the second floor where Mr. Bray and Miss Dorothy lived.

Miss Dorothy, bless her soul, reminded Mr. Bray that even the hired help needed time to eat some dinner, which was how Al found herself sitting on the front steps, mopping her neck with her kerchief and trying to ignore the ache in her belly. Her monthly curse would soon be upon her, and usually her appetite grew to be ravenous in the days before. But what little money she had left was in her saddle bags – five cents, to be exact – so she settled in on the dusty step for an hour of people-watching.

She must have dozed off, because quite suddenly there was a hand on her shoulder and she jerked upright, panicking.

_It would be just my luck to have fallen asleep on my first day_, she thought, but then realized that it wasn't Mr. Bray standing in front of her.

Instead it was a slim black woman, wearing an apron that was absolutely covered in flour and a concerned frown.

"You all right there, young man?"

She blinked. "Uh – yes'm. I'm fine."

"You sure?"

"Yes'm."

The lady raised an eyebrow. "Really, now. Because I saw you come out here about fifteen minutes ago and sit down for your dinner hour, and yet you ain't got one bite to eat."

Al flushed. "W-well, ma'am, uh….i-it's just that I ain't got no dinner."

"Can you read?"

It wasn't said hatefully, just genuine concern. Al nodded, and then the woman pointed with an exasperated smile across the street.

"Then why in heaven's name didn't you come on over to the café?"

Al flushed deeper, and tried not to squirm. "I ain't got money," she mumbled, knowing full well what was coming next.

"Young man," the woman began rather sternly, "where's your ma?"

Al looked up, saw the worry in those dark eyes, and fought a smile. This town seemed to be full of people that her mother would have absolutely adored.

"She's dead and buried, ma'am. It's just me."

She eyed Al, then huffed. "Well, then, come along."

Al stiffened in surprise. "Ma'am - ?"

"Well we can't have you visitin' our fine town and droppin' in a dead faint from not eatin', can we? You come on, now."

Automatically she stood and followed the woman across the street. There was a shady clearing under a big oak tree, cluttered with tables adorned in red-checkered cloths and glass jars with daisies. A big old stove sat to the side, and two working tables that were covered in pies and cakes and pitchers.

Al felt her mouth water.

"You sit yo'self down, here now."

The woman busily fixed a plate, poured Al a cup of coffee and got her napkin and cutlery. Al stared down at the tin plate before her – crammed with two thick slices of meatloaf, a sizeable mountain of mashed potatoes, all slathered in gravy, a mess of greens, and pickled beets.

She was still staring when a smaller plate, this one containing what looked like half a loaf of bread covered in copious amounts of butter, was set down next to the first.

"Food ain't meant to be looked at, child."

She started at the gentle reprimand, and picked up her fork.

"Thank you, ma'am," she remembered to say before she took her first bite. The woman turned, surprised, but Al's mouth was already full of food and all her hostess could do was smile and nod.

Al ate it all in about twenty minutes, which she knew bordered on rude but she figured wasn't any worse than letting this woman feed her for free.

She was mopping up the last bits of gravy with a piece of bread when the other chair at her table was suddenly pulled out.

Blinking, she watched the tall man fold himself into his seat, cigar tucked between his lips and long hair curling over his shoulders.

"Howdy."

She swallowed, suddenly wishing Matthew or Dr. Quinn were there. "Howdy."

"What's your name, kid?"

"Al Riley."

He didn't say much else for several moments, just regarded her coolly through the plumes of cigar smoke. Al gave up trying to figure out what he wanted, and turned to the piece of pie that her hostess had dropped off a few minutes ago.

"Where you from?"

There was an odd edge to the man's voice, enough to make Al's fork pause midair. She glanced over and found a familiar look in his eyes, and her heart sank. Something told her that few people in this town were going to be as understanding and kind as Dr. Quinn and the Cooper children.

"Albuquerque."

His brow rose in surprise, much like Sully's had the night before. "Long way from home, ain't ya?"

"Don't got a home no more. Though I s'pose this is pretty far from where it used to be."

More silence. "Where's your folks?"

"Ma's dead. Pa's better off thatta way."

"Where'd you get your horse?"

"Bought 'im off a rancher in Texas."

The answers were easy in coming, seeing as they were the truth. She'd learned from experience that it was easiest to stick to one big lie that you supported with actual facts, rather than a whole mess of little white lies that were easier to get tangled up in.

"You runnin' from the law?"

She put down her fork. "I ain't never stole nothin' or killed nobody in my life, if that's what you's askin'," Al finally said, not bothering to keep her tone light and friendly. "I ain't here to hurt nobody or take nothin' what don't belong to me, all I'm doin' is eatin' lunch. So's I'd 'ppreciate it if you'd let me be, seein' as how you ain't wearin' no sheriff badge and I ain't got to answer none of your fool questions."

For a heartbeat or two, AL thought she was about to knocked clean out of her seat. But after another puff of cigar smoke, the man just smirked.

"Well, I reckon you're more of a man than I thought. Name's Hank Lawson, I run the saloon here in town. You come by and meet some of the girls, have yourself a drink. First one's my treat."

Al nearly gagged. "Thanks, but I don't care none for liquor."

Hank's eyes narrowed, then he shrugged and rose to his feet. "Suit yourself. Grace," he acknowledged, and flipped a coin to the woman on his way out.

Grace caught the money, but shoved it into her apron pocket while muttering under her breath. Al's heart squeezed.

"You get your fill, child?"

Al smiled, and stood up. "Yes, ma'am. I shore do 'ppreciate it. Thank ya, Miss Grace."

"Well, you're most welcome. You come back tomorrow, now. Y'hear?"

"Yes'm," Al nodded, making a mental note to leave the homestead earlier the next morning so she could chop some wood for this kind soul. _Leave no good deed unpunished_, as her mother used to say.

Al clapped her hat back on her head, and left for the rest of the work day on a full stomach, and a sense of foreboding about one town barber and a saloon owner.

Luckily, the afternoon passed by in a blur; the store was busy non-stop, and she didn't have much time for brooding. When Mr. Bray came and paid her, he even patted her gruffly on the shoulder and told her to be back first thing in the morning.

"And don't be late," he grouched. "We got plenty to do 'fore opening."

Her ride back to the homestead was quiet, since everyone else was already there. Dr. Quinn left with the younger children after school let out, and Matthew probably didn't even come through town after he finished working on his own homestead. She had plenty of time to worry about the sleeping arrangements for that night – even if Matthew had known the truth, she was sure that he wouldn't have tried anything last night. But he didn't know, and she was even more certain that he would have been mightily uncomfortable if he had.

She sighed, gnawing on her lip. Willow twitched his ears in sympathy; she smiled and patted his neck.

"I wonder what Mother and Mrs. Riley would say," she commented softly, "if they knew that I was sleeping in a barn with a man."

She laughed slightly, able to picture the outraged and shocked expressions, and for a moment, the beautiful scenery and fond memories were able to soothe the troubles of her soul.

/

_**No, it won't take a friggin' year and a half for the next update.**_


End file.
